


Sunlight: Revamped

by hiddenoptimist



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bondage, Choking, Coercion, Collars, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Face-Fucking, Felching, Humiliation, Hypnotism, I'll add to this, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Coercion, Multi, Non-Sexual Slavery, Politics, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Slavery, Threesome - F/M/M, Torture, a re-do, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6107635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenoptimist/pseuds/hiddenoptimist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over two years have passed since Tess died. Since then, she's never felt better. Her skin is shiny marble, her teeth pointed and bloodstained, and her mission is nearly over: she's found the man who killed her night-walkers.</p><p>Now, she just has to kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back and better than ever! This is a rewrite of Sunlight, with more blood, more guts, more kickass female characters, and way more death. Updates every second Thursday. Requests are open for drabbles, prompts and one shots at nightwalkersff.tumblr.com/ask

The footmen by the door stiffened as she approached. She could tell they were terrified by her presence; even from twenty feet away she could see the fine hairs on their bare arms rise. Nevertheless, they stepped aside, holding the door open for her. She strode through, to be met by the host for the evening.

“Good evening, madam,” he said. His voice sounded smooth to the human ear, but she detected the tiniest stutter and hesitation in his tone. “Do you have an invitation?”

She reached into her bag, her fingers brushing the cool metal of the dagger concealed within, and drew out the thick, cream-coloured paper. The gold trim sparkled in the spotlights, the same light reflecting off her dress. The human eye, though inept in noticing the finer details of the surrounding world, could not fail to miss the exquisite beauty of her outfit. She preferred to have the attention of the room on her in some way, and tonight was no exception. She had embraced the evening’s theme – ‘All That Glitters Is Not Gold’ – with vigorous enthusiasm. She was, after all, the embodiment of the phrase tonight.

The host smiled unconvincingly. He was a short man, almost a head smaller than her as she stood before him in her heels, but not small. His white shirt bulged from beneath his waistcoat. Her very presence flustered him. His cheeks reddened as he looked up from the paper.

“Evangeline, how nice to see you again. You do look marvellous tonight, though I was under the impression you couldn’t make it?”

She smiled, baring teeth that sparkled like fresh snow. “Plans change. I do hope I’m not intruding by attending without an RSVP.” She laughed, a light-hearted melody that attracted the gaze of everyone in the vicinity. “This is the most discussed event of the year. You understand that I could not miss it for the world.”

The host laughed with her, but compared to her voice he sounded almost lifeless. “Of course. Please, enjoy yourself.”

She thanked him and stepped into the ballroom. People were so concerned with material objects, she thought as she looked around. They did not seem to understand the concept of death. For all intents and purposes, humans believed themselves immortal and indestructible. She held back a laugh, thinking of the impending doom hanging over the dancers like a black cloud. She knew exactly how fragile a human body could be – one only had to look at the example of Evangeline, her cold, grey body left in her back garden, to know flesh was weak and easily ripped apart.

She stepped into the ballroom, taken aback at the finery that confronted her. She’d been here before, a thousand years ago (alright, two, but nobody was counting) and knew that this room had once been bare apart from the cross affixed to the wall. It was still here, attached to the wall with pure silver, a polished plaque beneath it. She averted her eyes, turning in a slow circle, staring up at the slim window on the left wall. Only moonlight streamed through now, casting a pearly light on the shining dancefloor. She’d seen this room at its best and its worst, the latter being nothing short of a torture chamber. All her memories of this room were tainted by pain and suffering, though not necessarily all her own.

Tonight would be no different.

Bodies swirled around the floor, enchanted by the music from the mini orchestra in the corner. A waltz, weighed down by the sorrowful notes from the cello. It seemed wrong, in a way. The night was made for enjoyment, and as far as she could see there wasn’t much of it. Despite her recent history, the newly resurrected human society was far different from her own and confused her greatly. Why have a party without any fun?

It wasn’t her place to say. She wasn’t supposed to be here, this party and its pitiful host were not supposed to accommodate her. They were the fish gliding amongst one another; she was the shark in the dark water below. She had a job to do, and it was to be done before sunrise.

The crowd of dancers was thick. She skirted around the outside, pressed against the wall, and attempted to reach the clumps of tables on the other side of the ballroom. Sitting at the back of the room was her target, the charming Mr Darcy. It was a pseudonym, of course. Everyone used them now, to distance themselves from their past under the Dark Ages, before the Sunlight Slaughter and the Resurgence. She hated the prestige given to the murder of thousands, but she swallowed her disgust and reminded herself that she was no better than they. The name she’d stolen for the evening had been a pseudonym too. It had just moved owner.

Mr Darcy had taken his name from an old novel, and in preparation for this evening she had read it twice. Foolishly, she’d expected him to have some resemblance to the awkwardly charming character, but the Darcy that sat before her now was nothing of the sort. Around his table was a gaggle of ladies all ten years younger than him at least, and he waved his money around and ordered drinks as though his income was disposable. She knew the opposite was true; there was only one reason why he had the cash on him tonight, and that was all she was interested in.

She approached the table, smoothing down her dress so her breasts were accentuated and the skirt clung to her hips. The material was thin and static where it wasn’t netted, and she wore nothing beneath. Her year of captivity had left her with more than a few tricks up her sleeve. Mr Darcy stopped mid-sentence as she glided past his table. He stood suddenly, excusing himself from the gathered ladies, and pushed his way through the crowd after her. The power that lingered in her muscles ached, yearning to be used, but she resisted the urge to run. Doing so would give her away immediately. Instead, she used the captivating nature of the night-walker she was to keep just ahead of him. If he wanted her that badly – and she knew he did – he could work for her.

She paused by the buffet table, taking a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, and turned to face him. He was flustered, his face turning a shade of fuchsia she’d never observed on a human before. He adjusted his tie, loosening it slightly and covering the motion with his other hand, producing a crimson rose from the inside of his jacket with a flourish. The petals were wrinkled and damp with sweat.

“Impressive,” she said softly, sipping her champagne. The bubbling wine made the inside of her mouth numb, the liquid itself tasteless. What she really wanted ran beneath his skin, showing as a luminescent web of blue and red over his body.

Mr Darcy inclined his head and held the flower closer to her. “For you, my lady.”

She took the flower and tucked it into the side of her dress. The thorns of the plant scraping her skin was akin to scraping down a stone: the thorns grew blunt and worn. He did not notice, though his eyes followed the curve of her body to the ground.

She tucked her bag closer to her side, holding it between her arm and her waist. Through the satin, she could feel the shape of the dagger. A tantalising smile played at her lips and she motioned him closer with a finger.

“I don’t suppose you know anywhere we could go for a bit of privacy?” she asked, her voice sugar sweet.

This close to him, her sense of smell was overpowered by the stench of old sweat coming from his skin and the creases of his suit. Her sharp gaze picked out the edge of old stain under his arm. He needed a new dry cleaner. His heartbeat rose, pounding in her ears, eerily loud in the absence of her own.

“I know a place,” he said. She could see drops of saliva pooling in the corners of his lips; his excitement was palpable. He turned and the crowd parted around him, and after placing down her flute on the table, she followed. All eyes were on her, the crowd staring in awe and fear. They may have been attracted to his obvious lust, but now they were focused on her. Somewhere deep in their souls, the primitive fear was rising. They knew what she was, even if they could not name her, and only a few such as Mr Darcy were foolish enough to mistake terror for arousal.

He disappeared beneath a tapestry run through with shimmering gold. She followed close behind, stepping through the servants’ entrance at his heels, and ascended the spiralling stone staircase. From the interior design, anyone would think this place was a castle rather than a lowly mansion. Mr Darcy’s heartrate rose as he began to slow, the climb getting the better of him. He was quite a portly man, short and ugly, with a rat’s face. His only appeal, as far as she was concerned, was his apparent wealth, and even that was non-existent.

“Would you like to stop?” she asked pleasantly. Her tongue flickered over her lips. She could see the blood pounding against the elastic walls of the vessels it was carried in, right below the surface of his flushed skin, and was reminded of how long it had been since she’d last slaked her thirst.

“I’m okay,” he replied, breathless with the exertion.

“If you’re sure.”

She wondered how he managed to woo all the women he’d reportedly slept with if he couldn’t even show them to the bedroom without panting. Surely he would drop from exhaustion before they even made it between the sheets?

Her question was answered when he pushed open a door to the right and stood aside to let her enter. The room was bare in comparison to the glitter of the ballroom, but she had barely a chance to look at it before he was upon her, pushing her against the wall, his hands pawing at her body beneath her dress. His fingers caught in the garment around her waist, where her pale skin showed through with only the barest of netting covering it, and tore through the threads. She reached for her purse, keeping her head far away from his, and pulled out the blade. It glimmered in the low lighting, stained crimson for effect, and she held it to his pudgy throat now.

“This is how the rest of the evening’s going to go,” she announced as he froze before her. “You’re going to tell me where Hunter Everett is, and I’m going to let you go.”

“And if I don’t?” He was trying to be brave, but his knees were quivering and overall he came across as pathetic.

She smiled, and pressed the dagger into his throat. Blood welled along the edge of the blade, the scent making her stomach tighten and twist. He scrambled away from her, yelling in pain, and she let him go. She was in front of the door, and it wasn’t as though he was fast enough to escape from her anyway.

In his haste to get away from her, his warm, soft flesh brushed against her cold, hard skin. He stared in horror at her, the feeling deep in his gut beginning to make sense.

“You’re one of them,” he whispered.

She smiled, and licked the blade clean of his blood. The fire in her throat, fuelled by the warmth and the taste of the thick liquid, roared up, momentarily clouding her brain, urging her to make the kill. She fought to control her thirst, and pointed the dagger at him.

“You can’t be,” he said, drawing himself up to his full height. “They’re all gone. Hunter has them. There’s only one…” He trailed off and stared at her. He’d heard the stories about her. With trembling hands, he reached for the blinds behind him, drawing them open.

She raised her eyebrows at the night sky through the glass. “It’s the middle of the night. No sunlight.”

Mr Darcy nodded to himself and turned back to close the blinds. She relaxed, only to see him attempt to escape through the second floor window.

“Mr Darcy, I’m afraid you don’t seem to understand what I need from you,” she sighed, stepping up behind him and gripping the back of his collar. With one fluid movement, she had thrown him against the opposite wall. “This should be simple: where is Hunter Everett?”

“I’ll never tell!” he exclaimed, curling up into a ball as she stoof over him. His arm hung at an awkward angle; she’d broken his shoulder already.

“Mr Darcy – well, it’s actually Roderick, isn’t it? Roderick, I only need some information.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Research? You can’t interrogate someone without previous research, it’s pointless. Besides, we’re on equal footing now, because doubtlessly you’ve worked out what my name is.”

Mr Darcy – Roderick – whimpered and peeked up at her through his hands. She sighed at how horribly pathetic he was. The childish act was only making her wish she’d already killed him.

“Tess,” he whispered, and immediately covered his face again.

She cast her eyes to the ceiling. This was like torturing a child. His defensive technique might actually have worked too, if she hadn’t lacked morals.

“That’s right,” she encouraged. “And that means you know what’s going to happen to you if you don’t answer me. _Where is Hunter Everett?_ ”

 

 

Tess wiped the corners of her mouth with her fingertips as she descended the stone steps again. She cast a quick look over her dress, twisting to see the back, and smoothed down her skirt. No evidence except the smell of blood on her breath and the torn netting at her hip, but the humans wouldn’t pick up on that. Now to slip out without detection – it was a shame, really. This party might actually have been fun, even if it had been a waste of an evening. Roderick hadn’t known where Everett was, and she’d taken him to the brink of death before she’d determined he was telling the truth.

Regardless, he had made a nice meal, even if his blood had been unhealthily full of cholesterol.

She ducked beneath the tapestry and stepped out into the glamour of the ballroom again. The group of ladies that had clung so closely to their beloved ‘Mr Darcy’ now surrounded another man flaunting his cash. One glared in her direction, and Tess made a show of wiping her mouth again. She took pleasure in the pink tinge in the girl’s cheeks as she hurriedly turned away again.

Tess crossed the dancefloor, enjoying the way the crowd twirled around her. Their fear, mostly forgotten after her disappearance, rose again as a tsunami. She wondered why Louis had chosen to retreat from the outside world when wading through a pool of human fear was so much fun.

The buffet table had been laden with desserts in her absence and she glided over there now, eyeing a sweet cake. Though she could no longer taste regular food, the sticky texture of cake was one of her favourite things. For a while in the beginning, she had attempted the vampiric equivalent of vegetarianism, living off a mixed diet of animals and human food, and had found thick cakes to be the less violent version of ripping a chunk of flesh from a human throat. Even better: the cake she spotted now was topped with a glazed cherry.

She picked the smallest cake and bit into it, turning away from the crowd to ensure her obscene enjoyment would not be seen. Humans were picky about the way ladies ate cake, and it was not with the greed Tess now displayed. The remnant taste of blood combined with the thick, clumpy texture of the cake produced a substance quite unlike anything she’d had before. She saved the cherry for last, popping it between her lips as she turned back to the dancefloor. So absorbed in her cake, she had missed the approach of a man. He was tall and athletic, seemingly built around the muscle he possessed. His suit was pressed to perfection, and she caught the scent of fresh, clean cotton; it was new for tonight. Her gaze flickered over him, noticing all this and more, in under a second. He didn’t react to her intensive examination. He hadn’t noticed.

“I couldn’t help but notice a lovely lady all by herself,” he said, smiling to reveal amazingly white teeth. “Excuse my forwardness, but I can’t leave such a woman on her own. Would you care to dance?”

He held out his hand, gloved in thin white cotton. Tess swallowed the cherry and placed her hand in his. Gloves were a good idea – she’d have to remember for next time.

“I would be delighted,” she replied, “but I don’t even know your name.”

He was stronger than she’d thought, and he swung her out into the centre of the dancefloor, immediately falling into step with the beat of the music. “I prefer not to know my partners,” he said. “I believe it adds to the mystery of the night, don’t you agree?”

The music grew louder, swelling around them. Humans moved out of their way as they twirled and danced, dominating the floor. Eventually, Tess realised she had been swallowed up by the music and the moment, lost in the surprisingly blue eyes of her partner. She’d never before seen eyes that sparkled in real life. Now out of her reverie, she noticed the humans around them standing frozen in a circle, penning them in.

“I do love dancing,” her partner sighed, breaking the constant eye contact between them for the first time. “It’s very romantic. I know others who would disagree – some of them believe the definition of romance to be hunting a girl in a forest and taking her prisoner.”

Tess began to feel uncomfortable. He’d just described her own capture, though she assured herself he must be talking about a similar issue. Three years was a long time to remember something on the slim chance of encountering the subject involved. Still, his words made her skin crawl a little.

“How dreadful,” she replied. Her voice remained light.

“It is, isn’t it?”

His grip on her hand tightened. Tess began to feel dizzy from the spinning - all this dance consisted of was twirling, apparently. Though shouldn’t the song have finished by now? It seemed to repeat the same few bars over and over. Tess managed a glimpse around the human circle surrounding them. There was no immediate escape. She was trapped.

She dug her heels into the floor and stopped her partner. “This has been wonderful,” she began. “You’re a fantastic dancer, truly, but I must leave now.” She managed a weak smile. “It’s almost midnight, after all.”

His own smile disappeared. “Your name’s not Cinderella. I know that. Stay a little longer.”

His grip on her hand was now painfully tight. With no one dancing, the music slowed to a stop, and it was then that she realised what had been worrying her the whole time. It had been there, nagging at the back of her mind, the scent under the cotton.

With the absence of a beat, she could feel the lack of vibrations in his hand. Neither of them had a heartbeat.

Tess pulled against his grip, knowing as she did it that it was pointless. As a relatively young night-walker, she was not as strong as her elders. His grip bruised the hard flesh of her wrist. The gloves made sense now; he’d lain in wait and had disguised any features that could identify him as a night-walker.

Roderick’s words came back to her: “There’s only one.” It was true. Tess had been the last free night-walker before that moment. So how had this stranger evaded the grasp of Hunter Everett? The human leader had coordinated the rebellion, taken full credit for the Sunlight Slaughter, and had either killed or enslaved every night-walker a little over a year ago. The only reason Tess had escaped was because no one had known of her existence. It wasn’t impossible that this night-walker had done the same, but if that was the case then what did he want with her?

The stranger laughed and drew her closer to him. “Tess, darling, you’ve got blood under your chin. Didn’t your master ever tell you to wash after a kill?” He paused. “No, he couldn’t, could he? He thinks you’re dead.”

_He knew her name._

“Don’t worry though,” he continued, smiling widely again. This time, she saw the points of the fangs he no longer bothered to conceal. “You’ll be with him soon enough.”

Tess twisted in his grasp. Around them, the humans stood blankly, as though they were blind to what was happening. She stopped thrashing and went limp, hit by a bout of exhaustion. Her head pounded. She’d eaten something bad – Roderick must have been high on something.

Noticing her sudden apathy, the stranger laughed louder. “It was a delicious cake, wasn’t it? I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.” He ran his hands through his hair and began to speak again, his fangs concealed. “I do apologise for this disturbance, ladies and gentlemen. Due to the valiant efforts of myself and my team, we have managed to catch the last of the night-walkers.”

Tess felt her eyelids growing heavy. She hadn’t slept in two years, not even during the day, and the feeling was foreign to her now. His words barely registered, just the firm grip he kept on her arm.

“Sadly, our bravest volunteer, Mr Darcy, has been a casualty in this war. His body is upstairs – my team will take care of it.”

 _Bullshit_ , Tess thought. Roderick hadn’t been brave – he’d been a useless coward that had stepped in her way. The humans around them were moving now, interacting with each other and whispering about her as if a spell had broken. Another voice rose above the crowd.

“Mr President, what will you do with her now?”

 _President_? Tess’s stomach sank. She knew who held onto her arm, and the reality of the matter was too much for her to cope with. She felt the final act of the tranquiliser take over her body, and she fell limp in Hunter Everett’s grasp.


	2. Chapter Two

Tess felt the slow burn of the silver against her wrists. She opened her eyes, blinded momentarily by the drugs still lingering in her blood. As far as she could tell, she was alone in the back of a van.

Through the wooden partition behind her came voices: one human, one unmistakeably more. Even through the wood, she could smell the animal stench of human blood and the oddly indulgent scent of Hunter Everett. She’d been a fool to believe she could kill him without attracting his attention. He’d kept as much of an eye on her as she had on him, and with good reason. As the last night-walker, Tess had been his only threat. That was no longer the case.

She raised her head and her neck screamed in agony. The last time she’d been in this much pain, she’d been relatively happy. It wasn’t often that she relished her days as a slave, but there was nothing quite like misfortune in the present to make her see how lucky she’d actually been.

Her head fell back to the metal floor and she curled up as much as she could. Her wrists were bound behind her back, her ankles also wrapped in silver, her body twisted to knot her limbs together. The result was an agonising ache in her muscles and her dress riding up, the gold netting ripped to shreds. A pang of sorrow hit her – she’d liked this dress.

Tess knew what came next: torture and death. Everett had no other use for her, though she doubted he’d need much information from her in the first place. As a newborn night-walker, barely two years old, she was useless in terms of allies. She had no friends, no one who she could have turned to for help. It had been her against the world for a very long time now.

Everett’s scent wafted through the wood again. He was the reason she was in this mess. She’d hunted him for almost the entirety of her immortal existence, her goal to find and destroy what she had believed to be nothing more than a power-crazed human. She hadn’t expected a suave gentleman deceiving in his looks and behaviour, much less a night-walker. The bastard was as indestructible as she was now, and the tables had turned on her too rapidly for her to realise. She was a prisoner once again, albeit to only one insane vampire, not five.

How had she missed this? She went over what she knew about him again. His history was bloody, laced with death. He’d risen shortly after his creation as the man to end the human enslavement by the night-walkers, travelling the country during the day and encouraging bloodshed and mutiny amongst the humans. It had worked; the humans had staged the Sunlight Slaughter, the most brutal takeover ever. Everett had announced himself the leader of this new human regime – the ‘Resurgence’ – once all the night-walkers were dead. All but five, she hoped. His betrayal both shocked and confounded her. She’d never seen a genocidal maniac with more internalised self-loathing than he.

The van slowed to a stop. Tess blinked away the drugs clouding her mind (was it possible human tranquilisers could work on night-walkers?) and tried to focus. She had to change her plan completely. There was no more time for balls and pleasantries. Her plan would have to speed up; her only option now was kill or be killed.

The back doors of the van opened. Tess squinted through the bright light, relieved to see it wasn’t the sun, just a large torch held by a guard. There were two men standing behind the light, both of them human, both wearing the scarlet uniform of Everett’s personal guard. They were an elite team Everett had dubbed his ‘hunters’, and Tess had never seen one this close. They were trained to kill with precision and efficiency, masters of the supernatural, humans turned killing machines. They were Everett’s pride and joy.

The hunter not holding the torch stepped into the back of the van. Still mostly paralysed, Tess could do nothing as he picked her up, making sure her teeth were nowhere near his flesh, and carried her out of the van. Her position allowed her to see the stars and the moon, and she admired their ethereal glow. There was no telling whether or not she’d see them again.

A warm, fat hand squeezed her thigh, exposed as her dress rode up against his uniform. He laughed, gesturing to his companion, and another human hand squeezed her, this time going for her breast. Contorted, restrained and drugged, she could do nothing to prevent them taking what they wanted from her.

Everett’s mansion was unusually warm. The decline in industry during the night-walkers’ reign had led to human houses having no heating – it wasn’t as thought night-walkers felt the change in the temperature. Everett didn’t even need heating, yet his house was probably the warmest in the country. She saw nothing but flashes of regal furniture, the back entrance decorated in reds and purples, velvet lining the walls, before she was taken down a set of cold stone stairs and dropped into a cell.

The hunters whispered to each other, and the man holding her slid his hand between her legs. He hooked a finger around her underwear, ripping the fabric from her body in one fluid movement. She watched him as he sniffed the fabric, slowly grinned, and stuffed the material into his pocket. Both men turned and left, the thick steel door locking loudly behind them.

Tess lay on the frozen floor, her dress pushed up around her waist, her limbs still bound behind her, for four hours, forty-two minutes and seventeen seconds. Every second passed with a growing resentment of her precise internal clock, the time she was always forced to be away of, and Hunter Everett. Her hatred of him grew the most. He could have killed her by now, but no. She was still alive, still suffering as her body stiffened with pain, her mind racing with failing escape plans, her sense taking in the continual, everlasting smell of mould and damp.

She was still alive, and she couldn’t work out why.

The door opened at the end of those four hours, forty-two minutes and seventeen seconds. Tess raised her head the best she could with her neck still aflame, and stared up at Everett. He was here personally. Whatever he wanted to do to her, it wouldn’t be good.

He paced around her, wandering in and out of her line of sight, prodding her with his foot now and again. He crouched down behind her, his breath cold on the exposed flesh of her arse, and struck a single, hard blow on her cheek. She hissed in pain, flinching away unsuccessfully; he just pulled her back by the waist, keeping her close to him. His fingers, the same cool, silky soft skin as her own, stroked over her waist, sliding lower, between her legs.

“I have no idea why he never looked for you,” Everett said, laughing lightly as the pad of his finger explored her body. Tess squirmed under his touch, desperate to get away. “If I had you, I’d never let you go. I bet you’re tight.”

His finger pushed into her and Tess gasped. He pulled out and pushed back in again, his fingernail catching on the soft folds of her insides, ripping the top layer of skin off.

“I was right. Surprisingly, considering what I’ve heard about you. Aren’t you supposed to be a slut, Tess? Giving it to anyone as long as they tell you where your precious Louis is? You’ve only ever cared for him anyway, right? The rest were just there whenever you wanted a bit of fun – or, more likely, the other way around.”

Tess felt better now. The drugs were beginning to wear off, and the weight was beginning to slink from her limbs. If he felt confident enough to untie her, she might have a chance at escape. It was a foolish dream, but it might result in a quicker death and anything was better than staying here.

Everett paused in his torment of her and stroked her hair. His fingers came away dirty and damp, but he continued regardless. She wanted him to stop touching her, wanted him to get as far away from her as possible. There was nothing she could imagine that would be worse than his false softness – they both knew it was an act.

“You know, Tess, I feel a certain kinship towards you. We are the same, after all, both of us changed against our will, both of us enslaved to those monsters. We’re both caught in an unfortunate twist of fate. I’d like to imagine we’d be friends, if the circumstances were different.”

She felt his hands stroke the length of her hair and continue down her back to her bound wrists. The silver chains loosened and she wondered if he knew what he was doing. Did he think she was still paralysed? She could feel her strength growing in her muscles; if he let her go, she’d kill him, or disable him at the very least, and make her escape. He untied her ankles, flinching away from the silver as she would have – so he did have weaknesses – and moved back to her wrists. Tess didn’t move. Even a twitch at this stage could ruin her only chance. Her wrists fell against the ground, brushing the silver one more time, and she was free.

Everett helped her sit up. She kept her body loose, enough to convince him she still felt the effects of the drugs, but tense enough that she could act quickly when the time came. He kept one arm around her back, the other brushing her hair away from her eyes almost tenderly.

“I’m sorry about the business with the drug,” he said. Tess was surprised at how sincere he sounded – she hadn’t realised how good of an actor he really was. “I didn’t know if you would come with me if I’d simply asked. Night-walkers are hellish creatures, Tess, and I know you were forced into this. I want to offer you the chance to rule with me. We’ll dispose of those bastards that kidnapped you and we can look after this world peacefully. Think of it as a chance to redeem yourself of the crimes you’ve committed.”

Tess wasn’t listening anymore. Five of his words swirled around her mind repeatedly, their effect on her immediate and noticeable. _We’ll dispose of those bastards_.

Her night-walkers weren’t dead yet, and Everett knew where they were. Most likely, they were in the building.

She couldn’t leave yet. Her plan had been to avenge their deaths, but now it was a rescue mission. If she could get them out, they could go into hiding. Everything would be like it was before. All she had to do was play along.

“What do you say?” Everett asked.

Tess turned her head to look at him. He was smiling pleasantly, as if he’d pitched a business proposal in an expensive restaurant. He’d seemed to have forgotten they were in a dank dungeon, and she was his prisoner. She hadn’t heard what he’d said, but it couldn’t be worse than torture – at least, not by much.

She nodded her head slowly. “Okay.” Her voice was rough, her mouth dry. She cleared her throat and repeated her answer. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Everett grinned. “I knew you’d come round. Kindred souls, Tess, that’s what we are. I’ve a room prepared for you upstairs, I’ll send someone to help you get cleaned up and take you there.” He clapped his hands and stood up. “We’ll start as soon as you’re strong enough. This house is yours to explore as well, though for now I’d like you to stay away from the basement. I don’t think you’d enjoy returning here anyway, but just in case.”

Everett made to leave, but paused in the doorway. He turned back to her, beaming, and said, “I’m so glad you’ve decided to join me, Tess. You really are invaluable to me.”

As soon as he left, she was plunged back into darkness. Her body ached, but she forced herself to stand and stretch, grimacing through the pain. She rolled her shoulders back, hearing the click of her joints realigning themselves, feeling the accompanying pain spreading through her arms like wildfire. She may have made a pact with the enemy, but that didn’t mean she was safe. If anything, a fight with Everett or his hunters was more likely now; the mansion was guarded day and night by the best sharpshooters in the business, and there was no way she’d be able to sneak out.

Tess began to pace across the cell, stretching every muscle she had. Her stamina and speed had both been affected by the drug, and there was no telling how long it would be before she was back to her peak condition. As she went, she practised punching, swinging out her arms with as much force as she could. If she was drugged again, she’d need to know her limits.

Tess swung out her arms just as the remnants of the drug left her system. Her arm swung further than she’d expected and collided with the stone wall. Out of habit, she cradled her fist against her chest. If anything, she’d lost some of the sparkle from her skin. The wall was in worse shape, now cracked and crumbling. A cobweb of fractures spread across the whole wall, all originating from the epicentre of her punch. She glanced towards the door. If anyone had heard that, her allegiance to Everett would already be questioned.

She snapped back to the wall as someone on the other side knocked back.

There were other prisoners down here. Other night-walkers, or at least supernatural beings – the walls were thick enough to prevent knocks from humans being heard. As far as she knew, only night-walkers had the strength required to make their punches audible. Another night-walker was on the other side of the wall, but she had no idea who.

She knocked twice, hard enough for more concrete to come crumbling down on her head, and was relieved when her knock was repeated. She pressed her head to the wall. If was someone she knew, she was sure of it – her boys were most likely the only other night-walkers left, after all. Everett and Tess were both tainted, as far as he was concerned, tainted by their resistance and hatred of their new forms. Tess had to maintain that belief until her escape, but there was no reason as to why her night-walkers had to. Someone was on the other side of this wall, someone she knew. Someone she was going to rescue.

The door to the cell swung open, and in stepped a hunter and a young girl. The girl trembled in place, her gaze darting everywhere but Tess. The hunter was the opposite: his gaze never left the top of her legs, where her dress had ripped apart.

“Mr Everett says she’s to be your maid,” the hunter said, his gaze drifting up. Tess thought he was going to look her in the eye, but he stopped at her breasts instead. “She’ll show you to your room.”

The girl turned and quickly walked away from the cell. Tess hesitated, keeping her eyes on the hunter for a moment longer, before quickly catching up with her new maid. She slowed as she passed the cell beside hers. It gave no indication of its resident; just cold grey walls with a thick silver door set into it.

Tess caught up to her maid on the stairs. The girl visibly flinched away from her. It didn’t surprise Tess that Everett had sent what was probably his most terrified human to be his maid. It would be a reminder to her of what she was.

“What’s your name?” Tess asked, ignoring the looks the other staff members were giving her. There were a lot of staff in this mansion, hurrying from room to room with various tools. She hadn’t thought Everett would want this many people to see him for what he was.

“Olivia,” her maid replied, turning left at the top of the stairs.

Tess kept pace, within Olivia’s sight. She felt more at ease when she could see the night-walker, and Tess wanted to make this as easy for her as possible. Everett may have offered her a place by his side, but if his subjects didn’t like his alliance with a night-walker, Tess knew he’d drop her. You couldn’t trust monsters – Everett himself was proof of that.

Olivia stopped in front of a large set of wooden double doors. She opened one with an over-rehearsed flourish and stepped aside.

“I’ll be in the next room along if you need me,” she whispered, pointing to a smaller door off to the right. “There are close in the wardrobe that should fit you.”

Tess stepped inside, unsurprised when the door shut behind her. The room smelt strongly of vanilla, but other than that it was perfect. The bed, queen-sized, had silk curtains around it. Though it was obviously made for human habitation, Tess was grateful nonetheless. She could have still been locked in the dungeon, after all.

She didn’t immediately change clothes. Instead, she sat on the bed, heavy sheets sinking below her, and thought about what she’d agreed to. Looking back, it felt more like a trap than it had at the time. Everett was obviously getting something more than just a chance to help her redeem herself, whatever that meant. She just had to figure out what.

Tess fell backwards against the sheets, staring up at the ceiling. She’d made a bad decision today.


	3. Chapter 3

The scent of vanilla was beginning to get annoying.

Tess still lay on the bed an hour after she’d been shown to her room. Olivia had knocked timidly on the door twice around a half hour ago, leaving a ten minute gap between her visits, but had given up on her night-walker mistress. Tess had felt the time pass, but had chosen to ignore it. If Everett wanted her at all, he could come and get her himself.

Now she stood up. There were monitoring devices in the room, hidden amongst the furniture and lavish drapes. Tess could hear the whine of the machinery as it recorded her movements and noises. She hadn’t trusted Everett, but she hadn’t expected him to go as far as this. Why did he need surveillance equipment? He could hear and smell her every move anyway.

She found a camera no bigger than her smallest fingernail on the bed canopy. A microphone was taped to the underside of the armchair by the fire. The fireplace itself was completely useless, other than to conceal some sort of thermal imaging camera – also useless, considering she was as cold as ice. The large mirror, ornately framed and glimmering, was set into the wall. The room itself was too bright, and Tess now knew the reason.

She stood to one side of the mirror, trying to pick at the glass. Nothing. It was apparently night-walker proof. She wondered who stood on the other side – was there anyone there at all? Did she require twenty-four hour monitoring, or just a quick glance every so often?

Or was this just an elaborate ruse, thought up by Everett to induce paranoia?

Whether that was the desired effect or not, it was certainly beginning to set in. Someone would be watching her every move, either from a command or from self-preservation. The humans may avoid looking at her directly, but they watched her in mirrors, poised to run if she made one wrong move.

Tess sat down on the bed again, the silk sheets rough under her fingertips. She had to turn her mind away from her own demise. There were other lives at stake here.

Everett had said ‘bastards’. Plural. More than one of her night-walkers were alive, but how many and exactly who was a lot harder to work out. She imagined Louis was alive – he was the most valuable to Everett, and controlling him would result in control over the others too, should they still be alive. As second-in-command, Zayn was also probably still alive, and if Zayn was alive, so was Liam. He meant more to Zayn than Louis did. The alternative was that both Zayn and Liam were dead; one wouldn’t continue to survive without the other. There was no reason to kill Harry, not when Louis cared for him so much. Niall, on the other hand, held an influence over no one but Tess.

She considered the options. It was possible Everett had kept Niall alive for his hold over her, but Everett had had no guarantee he would eventually capture her. His belief was not enough. But it was possible he’d kept Niall alive just to have the complete set. If he was seen to have five – now six – night-walkers under his control, no one would dare oppose him.

Tess ran with five. She had to plan their escape. Getting two out at a time would be easiest, but smuggling herself back in would be difficult. She had no way of doing that yet. To further plan would require knowing the exits – she needed a tour.

“Olivia,” she called, opening the bedroom door. “Olivia, are you there?”

The smaller door to the right of her own opened, and Olivia popped her head out shyly. “I’m here,” she replied.

“Can I have a tour?”

Olivia hesitated. “I don’t think Mr Everett would like that.”

“He said I could go anywhere I wanted.”

“He did? Then I guess so. But you can’t go out like that; Mr Everett doesn’t like ladies wearing anything other than dresses.”

Tess looked down at herself. Her gold netting was torn and ripped, caught around her hips and barely covering her anymore, but it was still a dress. She looked back to Olivia.

“I don’t think that counts anymore,” the human blurted, covering her mouth as soon as she’d said it.

Tess laughed and stepped back into the room. “Did you say there were dresses in the wardrobe?”

Olivia followed her into the room, keeping a short distance from her. “It’s all that’s in there.”

Tess’s feet flew across the ground and she appeared in front of the oak wardrobe a second later. Olivia squeaked in fear, stepping backwards. Her hands covered her full lips and button nose, but exposed the tiny freckles across her cheeks. She, too, was wearing a dress; a simple, fawn-coloured shift that came in at the waist and fell to around her knees. On her feet were a pair of suede flats.

“Do I have to wear shoes too?” Tess asked, turning to the contents of the wardrobe.

“Well…”

The wardrobe was full of gowns more exquisite than Olivia’s. There was too much fabric, billowing skirts made from several layers of lace, and too-tight bodices. Tess frowned. There wasn’t a glimpse of denim, like she’d been hoping for.

“What do you think?” Olivia asked. Her voice was closer than before; she was gathering her courage. “Mr Everett had them made especially for you.”

“Did he now?” Tess mused. So he had known. “I take it this room was specially designed for me, too?”

“Yes, actually. He said you’d be arriving soon. A special guest to end the war, he said.”

“It isn’t a war,” Tess muttered. “It’s a slaughter.” She pulled out the lightest dress she could find, a midnight blue that glittered with sequins. “This one will do. Help me put it on?”

 

“This is the kitchen, this is Bertha, she makes _really_ good cakes, and that’s Arnold, he’s always grumpy, just ignore him. Down here’s the pantry, where all the food’s kept – Arnold tends to guard it, but most of the thefts are him anyway-“

Tess wandered behind Olivia, bored at the pace and the sights. Her maid seemed more concerned with the staff, and where to find the best food. The people they passed either avoided her gaze or bravely looked her in the eye until she had moved on. It was mostly the hunters that looked her in the eye. She hoped they weren’t going to make a habit of it, though it was better than them staring at other parts of her.

A breeze caught her ankles (she’d declined shoes, and Olivia had been too scared to press the issue) originating from the open doors at the back of the kitchen. Two men were standing beside crates of fruit. The draught brought with it a strong smell of gingerbread and human flesh, and her thirst grew. So far, she’d managed to ignore the feeling, but her patience was beginning to wear thin. Who was she supposed to drink from? Who did Everett drink from?

Tess caught the scent of her own bloodlust. If she was this obvious, Everett would notice soon and arrange something for her. Or he’d leave her to see how long her control lasted. The latter was more likely.

Olivia continued chatting, unaware her mistress wasn’t listening. Tess slowed, staring at the open door. From what Olivia had already told her, Everett’s grounds, all twelve acres, were lined with a thick band of woodland. There would be animals there, and while it wasn’t the same as biting into human flesh, it was better than nothing. She wanted to be trusted, and if that meant changing her eating habits she’d do it. Anything to get the humans to help her when the time came.

The doors to the outside were shut violently, breaking her from her reverie, by a hunter. He glared at her as she exposed her fangs to him and caught up with Olivia. The maid hadn’t noticed her disappearance, or even her sudden reappearance. She stopped by a carved doorway.

“These are Mr Everett’s chambers,” she said, her voice solemn. “He wants to speak to you.”

Olivia opened the doors into a large hall. In the centre was a long dining table, places set in a mockery of dinner. So he knew she was thirsty – it wasn’t hard to work out where the needy scent was coming from. Everett sat at the head of the table, facing the door. To his right sat Louis.

Tess froze as the large doors closed behind her. The dress, originally rather tight around the chest, now felt like it was crushing her. She panicked as she felt herself unable to breathe, and it took her a moment to remember she didn’t have to. By the time she’d recovered, Everett was watching her curiously. She looked around for Olivia, and found her standing by the doors, an odd, blank look in her eyes.

“Did you enjoy your tour?” Everett asked, drawing out the seat to his left. “The kitchen’s rather exciting, isn’t it? I do love the smell of fresh baking. Come and sit down.”

Tess approached slowly, mechanically. She moved towards the chair as though she had no other choice. As she sat down, Louis raised his head. He was blindfolded, but she saw him stiffen and knew he could smell her, knew he recognised her scent buried under layers of perfection and marble. She rested her hands on the table and crossed her ankles nervously.

“I believe you know each other,” Everett continued. “But just in case – Tess, this is Louis, the man you’ve spent two years searching for. Louis, this is Tess, the girl you gave up for dead. You may take your blindfold off now.”

Louis raised his hands, bony fingers picking at the knot behind his head. Tess was surprised to see him unrestrained and so docile; she hadn’t expected him to give up fighting. But his movements were robotic, almost as though they were out of his control. He folded the strip of material and laid it on the table, resting his hands in his lap again, and she saw him properly for the first time in two years.

His hair, grown long and greasy, covered one dull, blue eye. His white skin clung to his bones, exposing thin, unmoving veins. If he’d been human, he’d have died a long time ago. As it was, the smell of decay rose from him. The clothes he wore were torn and dirty. Though she was starving and bruised, Tess knew that beside him she was the epitome of health.

Neither of them shone beside Everett. He laughed loudly, and turned to Tess.

“You’re thirsty.” It wasn’t a question.

She nodded anyway.

Everett nodded at Louis. “There’s your meal.”

Tess looked between them, wide eyed. “No.”

“Unless you want to starve. Actually, no.” His eyes gleamed. “I could always force you to drink, but I have a better idea. Olivia, darling? Come here. You can drink from your maid, or from your former master. Pick one, or I’ll choose for you.”

Olivia was hovering beside Everett’s chair now, a little doll waiting to be controlled. Tess lowered her gaze to the table. Looking at either of them just discouraged her, and she wasn’t about to hand over control to Everett. He would win with any decision she made, but at least it would have been her decision.

If she drank from Olivia, she’d drain her. The human smelt too good, too fragrant, for Tess to resist. If she drank from Louis, she also risked killing him. He didn’t have much more to give, though if she could limit herself he’d be able to recover – provided Everett let him.

Tess met Louis’ eye again. “Him.”

Everett waved his hand and Olivia wandered back to her position at the door. He grinned, also turning to Louis, who had a glimmer of incredulity in his eyes.

“Kneel beside her,” Everett ordered. As Louis got up, his movements still not his own, Everett twisted to face Tess. “I think you made the right decision there. I’ll leave the two of you alone. Once you’ve drank, just do whatever you want with him. And you-” he turned his attention back to louis, now kneeling on the floor beside Tess’s chair “-stay there until she’s full, then do whatever she says.”

Everett strode out of his chambers, Olivia following behind him obediently. Tess slid to the floor as soon as the large doors closed. Louis remained rooted to the floor, his hands folded in his lap, his head angled back to give her easy access.

“Louis,” she murmured, taking one of his hands. He didn’t react.

“I can’t move until you’re finished,” he said, forcing the words out. “He won’t let me.”

His voice, though rough and damaged, made joy burst in her chest. This wasn’t an illusion, or some sadistic mind trick. He really was here in front of her, bruised but intact. His skin was like paper beneath her fingertips, and she gently took hold of his shoulders. There were faint, silvery bite marks on his throat, some fresher than others.

This was where Everett drank from.

Tess pressed her lips to the base of his throat, feeling him forcibly inhale. If it was to make him seem more human, he was failing; there was nothing he could do that would make her forget who he was. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and then sank her teeth into the vein on his collarbone.

Louis grunted, his fingers twitching in his lap. Tess thought about how much pain she was putting him through, how many times this had happened to him before. His blood hit her tongue and she gasped against his skin. He tasted like she remembered: a mixture of cinnamon and sugar, with a hint of the typical night-walker scent, which she imagined held the same flavour as diamonds. His blood made her a little light-headed, his natural aphrodisiac still present in his system. She dug her fingernails into his skin on a reflex and he let out a breath, the air hissing through his teeth. The sound brought her back to her senses; she’d taken too much already, and was hurting him.

Tess pulled her mouth away from his skin and pressed her face to his throat. He tucked her head under his chin, suddenly unfrozen and able to wrap his arms around her, squeezing her as tightly as his weakened state would let him. She gasped, feeling something cold and wet run down her cheek. Her tears carried on down his neck, pooling in the dip in his collarbone, mixing with the droplets of blood still clinging to his skin.

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered. “I thought the change didn’t work.”

A hysterical laugh bubbled up past her lips. “I thought _you_ were dead,” she confessed. “I thought I was going to have to avenge you.”

Louis laughed too, pressing his lips to her hair, teasing the fabric of her skirt with his fingers. “Did you get very far with that?”

“Got here, didn’t I?”

He laughed again, then held her closer, his voice dropping back to a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I ever treated you like this.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s as bad as this.” Tess hesitated, pulling back to look at him properly. For the first time, there was a spark of life in his eyes. “I’m sorry for choosing you.”

He shook his head. “No. I didn’t think you’d pick her; it was the proof I needed that you were you.” His hand brushed her cheek. “You are beautiful. Fuck, if I’d _known_ … I’d have changed you sooner. What’s your ability?”

Tess hesitated. “I don’t know. Never had a chance to test it, I guess. Would’ve attracted too much attention.”

Louis nodded, taking her hands and running his fingers over hers. He raised her knuckles to his chapped lips and held her there, closing his eyes to inhale her scent. Tess twisted her wrist, twining her fingers with his, and shuffling closer to him. He slid his other arm around her waist and squeezed tightly.

“I love you,” he murmured. “Never stopped.”

Tess pressed herself closer to him. “Love you too,” she whispered.

The dining chamber echoed her lie back to her and she closed her eyes, burying her face in his neck.

Louis pulled her up to face him, one rough finger smoothing over her cheek. He studied her marble face with a concentrated gaze and the tip of his finger. When he was finished, his finger tracing lightly over the curve of her lips for the second time, he leaned forward and kissed her

She tasted his thirst, burning in his mouth. It had never appeared to her before, but now she could taste the raging fire, feel it scorching her tongue, and she flinched away. Louis dropped his hold on her and shuffled backwards. He raised his legs, his knees to his chest, and peered at her over the top of them.

“Sorry. I didn’t think you’d feel any differently.”

Tess shook her head. “No – your thirst.”

“Oh. You wouldn’t have tasted that before.” Louis shrugged. “I haven’t eaten in days.”

“Then how are you still alive?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think I am. I don’t think I ever was.”

Tess hesitated, then tilted her head to the side. “You can drink from me, if you want.”

Louis’ legs fell away from his chest. “I don’t think Everett would like that.”

“Fuck him. He said you had to do anything I told you to, right? I’m telling you to do this.”

Louis nodded slowly, shuffling across the floor towards her again. He brushed her hair over her shoulder, smoothing over her cold skin with his palm, and pressed his lips to her throat. She waited for the puncture, the agonising feeling of draining, then the rush of euphoria that came with his gift. He kissed her skin, but pulled away.

“I can’t.” He shook his head and held her at arm’s length. “If I leave a mark, he’ll know and I’ll be punished.”

“You need to feed, Louis,” Tess frowned. She grabbed his hand, threading their fingers together. “Like, you really need to. Have you seen how thin you’re getting?” She stretched out their entwined fingers, his bones stretching against his thin skin as proof.

“I can feed in other ways,” he murmured, holding her waist with his free hand. “But not here. Not in his chambers. All I’ve got is a cell, but he’s not keeping you down there too, is he?”

Tess shook her head. “I have a room.”

“Think you can get me there?”

“I can try.” She got to her feet, still clutching his hand. “I’ll go see if I can find him. Stay here; he’ll probably send someone for you.”

Louis brought her knuckles to his lips once more and released her. Tess glided from the room, glancing over her shoulder as she stepped into the corridor. She’d never seen any of her night-walkers looking as pitiful as he did, and it scared her a little. If that was what Everett could do to Louis, who had never been human and was ageless as far as she knew, she feared what he’d do to her.

Tess wandered the corridors, avoiding the humans the best she could. They walked in pairs around her, whispering as soon as they thought she was out of earshot. She almost never was.

“I heard she’s a slut,” one handmaid whispered to her partner as they rounded the corner at the end of the corridor. “I heard she threw herself at any man who came near her.”

“She’d make a good night,” a hunter muttered as she swept past him.

“They had a word for ones like that, you know,” his friend replied. “The humans that would fuck ‘em and become ‘em. Blood whores, they were.”

Tess took a deep breath and found the metallic scent of Everett twisting through all the humans. She followed the strand through the mansion, up to the top floor, until she came to a door guarded by hunters. Both guards levelled their weapons at her and she prepared to fight – she was getting in there even if she had to spill blood to do it. Before she could attack, a blank look settled over their features and their weapons fell loose in their grasp. The hunter on the left inclined his head, and held open the door for her.

Everett stood in the centre of the room with another human, looking over blueprints. The room was in the middle of construction, a layer of woodchips and sawdust covering everything except Everett, who was as flawless as always. He held up his hand as she attempted to enter, stopping her in her tracks. Tess found herself unable to move as he finished discussing the plans with the human, who didn’t so much as glance at her. Only once he’d finished could she move again.

“We’ll talk outside,” Everett said, gliding towards her. “That’s such a lovely dress on you. I would hate to think you’d ruin it because of me.”

Tess stepped out into the hall with him. The two guards still stared blankly ahead, taking no notice of her, though they saluted when Everett appeared. She glanced at them.

“This isn’t really a public conversation,” she said.

Everett shrugged. “They won’t remember anything. You wanted to speak to me about Louis.”

“Well, yeah, but how did you know?”

“It’s not that hard – you’ve just come from him and I can smell his blood on your breath. So can the humans, by the way. I’d invest in a toothbrush if you want to maintain some kind of decent reputation around here. What about him?”

Tess faltered. Her request suddenly sounded ridiculous even to her own ears. Everett raised an eyebrow at her, but she pressed her lips together and shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You want him in your room.”

She stared at him. “Was it that easy?”

“Yes. You smell of _desire_ , Tess. I’m a little disappointed you still want him, but it’s only to be expected, I guess. You can use him as much as you want. I’ll have a chain installed by the bed, anything else you want. I know what he’s into, I’ll have equipment sent up if you want. Specify anything to Olivia and she’ll get it for you.” Everett waved at one of the guards, who hurried down the corridor, and then he chuckled. “Actually, how about we make a deal?”

Tess stepped away from him, wary. “What kind of deal?”

“The best kind.” He rolled his eyes. “It’ll be easy. You do a job for me, and I’ll switch your night-walkers around. Two nights with each of them, or something.”

“I don’t think I want to work for you.”

“That’s why you’re here, Tess. You can’t back out now; I’d just have to kill you.” Everett smiled widely. “It’s not even that hard of a job. You’ll be great at it, I know you will. I have court matters to attend to, and I need to show them you’re not a threat. You’ll just have to sit beside me and look harmless.”

Tess begrudgingly approached him again. “Fine. I can do that.”

He beamed. “Oh, you’ll be great at it.”


	4. Chapter 4

Tess shifted uncomfortably, her knees cracking audibly. Everett glanced at her from his throne, but made no move to help her. She lowered her gaze to the floor, attracted by the shiny silver chain lying on her lap. Her dress and its mounds of fabric protected her legs from the burning, but she had no protection on her neck.

When Everett had said she’d sit in on appointments, she thought he’d meant by his side, as equals. He’d sprung the chains on her just before they entered his throne room, claiming they weren’t real silver while he refused to touch them. She was kneeling beside his throne in a display of servitude, her wrists bound before her, nothing more than a prisoner. When he’d claimed they’d rule together, she had no idea he’d meant as master and pet.

Currently, Everett was listening to a man complain about the werewolves that stole his sheep. Apparently there were more groups of supernatural beings that had escaped Everett’s search but had gone underground, or at least to farmland outside of the city where there were plenty of sheep. Almost everyone he had spoken to today had complained about werewolves, as though that was the theme for the afternoon. Tess just wanted to go back to her room.

She cast her gaze to the ceiling, where the skylight allowed her to glimpse the blue sky beyond. The sunlight made her squint a little. It wasn’t hitting her directly; Everett had positioned his throne so that he took most of the light, shielding her from the ‘pain’ it would cause her. He’d decided no one could know she was immune. His excuse had been that they would fear her and he’d have no choice but to kill her, but Tess knew it was because they’d begin to question him as well.

Everett waved his hand and dismissed the last human with a promise of change. One by one, the assembled court vanished, filtering out the door with backwards glances aimed at Tess. When they were alone, Everett leaned over the arm of his throne and ran his fingers through Tess’s hair.

“Not much longer now and you can take those off,” he said, standing up to stretch. “I just have to make an official announcement, and it’ll look better if you’re in the background.”

“You didn’t tell me I’d be chained up,” Tess muttered, glaring at him as he bent over to touch his toes.

“Sitting down all day really does make me tense,” he said to no one in particular. It was either an act or an exaggeration, intended to make him look more human. “And if I’d told you, Tess, you’d never have agreed to sit with me this afternoon.”

“I wonder why.”

He laughed and motioned to the guard by the door. In funnelled a TV crew, who immediately began to set up around the throne. A gang of young women surrounded Everett, powdering his face and making sure he looked like the suave leader they thought he was. Tess slumped against the side of the throne, half-listening to him joking with the girls. They were barely older than she was, fawning over his every movement.

She closed her eyes, and tucked her chin against her chest, ignoring the sharp pain from the collar. If she focused carefully, she could still pick up the faint scent of Louis on her skin, where he’d kissed her throat and almost bitten her. Rubbing her tongue against the roof of her mouth allowed her to taste him. Her hands curled into fists as she imagined holding him again.

Yet she wasn’t sure if she loved him. She desired him, even Everett had picked up on that, but she didn’t think she loved him. Not anymore.

Everett sat back down on the throne again and Tess sat up. The sooner they did this, the sooner she could go back to her room. She flinched when Everett’s fingers caressed her hair again, but remained still, suffering through his touch. A woman with a clipboard stepped forward out of the throng of people, inclining her head towards Tess.

“Mr President, don’t you think it would be better if that was in the sunshine? A little bit of suffering would put the public’s mind at rest.”

Tess shifted uncomfortably as Everett’s fingers paused in her hair. Though the humans were callous to her, she had never been referred to as ‘that’ before.

“Angie, Tess is here because she’s proving she can be trusted to rule by my side. Now, trust goes both ways. If I torture her for the public’s approval, all I’m doing is proving she can’t trust me. Tess hasn’t done anything to warrant a punishment, so I’m not going to hurt her.”

Everett’s voice was calm and reasonable. He treated the woman as though she’d made an honest mistake, which was with a lot more grace than Tess would have given her. Angie’s red lips made a little circle and she took a step backwards.

“But she killed-“

“I know what she did,” he interrupted. “We’ve come to an agreement concerning her past crimes. Why do you think she’s sitting like this? I’m sure if she had a choice, she would prefer to be on a seat beside me instead of kneeling on the floor. But she’s working on her redemption and I, for one, am incredibly impressed by that. Now, Angie, don’t concern yourself with Tess anymore. She is my responsibility and mine alone.” He cleared his throat and smiled. “Are we ready to shoot?”

Angie stepped back into the crowd. Tess looked up at Everett, who smiled gently for the cameras, and wondered if he’d meant what he said. If he was incredibly impressed with her already, it wouldn’t take much more to convince him to let her remain unchained and unguarded. Unless he had lied again; she could never tell with him.

The director waved a hand and Tess focused on the camera. The crowd fell silent, and Everett began his speech:

“My fellow humans, it is with delight that I tell you the night-walkers have been vanquished. Last night we captured the last of them, Tess, and she has agreed to redeem herself and join us. We must all remember that she was human once too, and that she was forced into her current situation. In fact, since the beginning of the Resurgence, she has fought to find the one who did this to her and avenge her human death.”

That wasn’t right. Tess looked up at Everett, who had taken his hand from her head and was now ignoring her. He stared at the cameras with a steely glare as he spoke of the hardships she’d faced – all fake – and of how her redemption would benefit the growing human empire. He looked down at her only once, with a warm smile that unnerved her, before changing the subject.

“So the threat of the night-walkers has gone. Does that mean we are finally safe?” A dramatic pause. “Of course not. We will always have an enemy, something that lurks in the night, waiting to pounce when we are at our weakest. Our new enemy has revealed itself: the were-creatures of ancient lore. At first, they were merely rumours: too large wolves stealing farm animals at night; robbers changing form and slipping into the shadows. Now I have confirmation, and I’m afraid the outlook for them is bleak. My hunters are working on strategies and plans as we speak. We will go to war with our new enemy, and we will win.”

Everett nodded at the camera until the director yelled “Cut!” He relaxed on his throne, waving away the make-up artists, and waited until everyone had left again. Tess sat quietly until he moved, running his fingers through her hair again, before gesturing for a hunter to release her.

“I am sorry,” he said, standing and helping Tess up. “Though I can see why Louis did what he did – you look exquisite kneeling for me. Everything should be ready for you in your chambers. Let me walk you back.”

He took her hand and escorted her from the throne room. On the stairs, he let her walk in front, massaging the burnt skin on her neck with his fingertips.

“I’m afraid I’ve left a mark,” he murmured, when they reached the top of the stairs. “I do apologise. I tried to find the collar with the least silver content. Some was necessary, otherwise I would have been questioned, but I thought we’d have one with barely any. Apparently not.” He frowned. “I’ll see if I can have one made so you’re not as uncomfortable next time.”

“Or you could just not chain me up,” Tess pointed out.

Everett laughed. “I suppose that’s always an option.” He took her waist and guided her down the corridor. “Although I have no idea what Angie would say to that. She seemed awfully keen on having you tortured on camera. I think it would have taken away from my message.”

“Yeah, I’m glad you didn’t agree to that.”

They stopped outside Tess’s bedroom. Everett leaned against the door, pulling her closer. He ran his fingers through her hair again.

“I do love this,” he murmured. “After living rough for so long, your hair is still beautiful. I’ll have Olivia bring you some bathing oils and shampoo. If you look less feral, I’m sure the court will like you more.”

Tess stepped out of his reach. “I should go,” she said, playing with her dress. “I think I have a lot to catch up on.”

Yes.” Everett straightened and handed her a key. “I’ve already kept you two apart for two years now, I shouldn’t keep you for much longer. There should be a box of… toys for you in there, if you want to use them. I have another job for you tomorrow. I’ll have Olivia call for you when I need you. Have fun.”

He turned and walked down the corridor, moving a little too fast and too smoothly for a human. Tess watched him turn the corridor, waited until she heard his footsteps on the stairs, then pushed open the door and stepped into her bedroom.

The scent of vanilla was ridiculously overpowering, but it was mixed with new scents. One was a strong combination of wood, leather and silicone, coming from the chest at the foot of the bed. The other was a heady cocktail of metal, skin, and what Tess imagined diamonds to smell like. That scent came from Louis, who was sitting on top of the chest, watching her calmly.

Tess shut the door, plunging them both into darkness – the blinds had been drawn while she was out. In the seconds it took for her eyes to adjust, Louis stood up, the chain around his neck rattling. She strode across the room, stopping a step from him, and reached for his collar.

“It’s wrapped around the bedpost,” he whispered, a quiet laugh carried through the darkness with his voice. “I don’t know what they thought that would stop me from doing, but I thought I’d let you take it off.”

Tess fiddled with the lock on the back. The key Everett had given her slid into the lock and turned easily. The collar fell into her hands and she threw it to the floor as Louis wrapped his arms around her. His lips were on hers, rough and bruising, had she been human, holding her so tightly she thought he was going to break her. They stumbled towards the bed, him fighting with the zip on the back of her dress and she unbuckling his belt.

“You want me to hurt you?” he asked, voice breathless, letting her dress pool around her ankles and lifting her out of it. “Want me to fuck you hard?”

“Yes.” Her voice was a gasp as he dropped her onto the bed, pausing to pull off his shirt. She spread her legs as he knelt between them, ripping through her underwear as though it were paper. “Want you to hurt me.”

“Good.” Louis pressed kisses to her throat, fangs grazing her skin. “ _Starving_ for you.”

His hand closed around her throat and he forced her upright, kneeling in front of him. He lay back, resting on his elbows, waiting. Tess knew what to do; it was as though she’d been transported back two years and was the docile human again, ready to serve and take whatever he wanted to do to her. She crouched between his legs, one hand on his cock, and slipped it into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down. As a night-walker, she no longer had a gag reflex, and took him all, though it left her messy and breathless.

Louis gasped and closed his hand around her throat, fingers stroking the column of her neck, where his cock bulged in her throat. “You’re still just a little whore,” he said, closing his fist in her hair and holding her down. “You’ve always been a slut and it looks like you’ll be one for eternity now.”

He used his grip on her hair to guide her up and down. She felt him stiffen and grow in her throat and choked around him. Louis held her down for longer, watching her struggle, before letting her pull away. They stared at each other for a moment, before he motioned for her to come closer.

“Ride me,” he ordered. “I don’t have the strength to fuck you properly yet.”

Tess obediently straddled his lap, his cock sitting between her legs, pressed against her stomach. She raised herself up on her toes and shuffled forward, taking hold of his cock and pressing it to her entrance. For a moment, she wobbled and Louis grabbed her arms to steady her, and then she had pressed him inside her and was slowly sinking down on him.

The last time they’d been this close, their touch had been electric, condensed power pulsing beneath their skin. Sex was no longer like that, but the sweaty ache of excited yet weary muscles was almost as good. Tess leaned forward, letting him slip out as much as she dared before taking him all again. It was slow and deep, not quite as painful as she wanted, but having waited so long she didn’t care. Louis hooked his arm over her neck, pulling her down to his chest, and bucked his hips, fucking her hard for a minute before releasing her. She gasped and let her mouth fall open, and he took the opportunity to squeeze her jaw.

“You like this?” he asked, reaching behind her to slap her ass. “You like being a little whore? I bet you missed this. Two years without a dick in you – I’m surprised you lasted that long.”

Louis was growing in strength. Where his skin had been pale and gaunt before, it was now becoming more vibrant. His grip on her skin was stronger, his eyes both brighter and darker. Tess let him fuck her again, holding herself up as he slammed into her. This was nothing compared to sex as a human. He’d been as gentle as he possibly could when she was human, but now there was no need. A rush of warmth flooded her as she thought about how rough he’d be with all his strength back.

Louis had realised this too. He pushed her off, into the headboard, and sat up. “Hands and knees,” he said harshly, watching as she arranged herself how he wanted. He brushed the head of his cock against her entrance, slick with her juices, then slid up to her ass. “Where do you want my dick? You can pick this time.”

“Pussy,” she whimpered, pushing back against him.

He slapped her ass. “That’s not how you address me.”

“I want your dick in my pussy, Master.”

Louis smiled as he pressed his cock back into her. “I’ve waited so long for you to say that.”

He gripped her hips tightly and fucked her, faster and harder than he had before. There were no limits between them anymore. Tess dropped her face to the sheets, lacking the strength and the willpower to hold herself up any longer. Louis closed his hand around her throat again and made her arch her back.

“Tell me you love it.”

Tess gasped, feeling his grip tighten on her throat. She began to wheeze, because she knew that was what he wanted to hear, and inhaled enough to say, “I love it when you fuck my pussy, Master.”

“I know you do,” he muttered, releasing her throat to slap her ass again. He cleared his throat and said, with a laugh, “I’m going to come fast. It’s been way too long.”

Louis managed another couple of thrusts before he was squeezing her hips hard and slowing. Tess felt him go soft inside her and pull out, pushing her down to lie on her side. He flopped down beside her and pulled her closer by her waist, tucking his head under her chin. She pulled the sheets away from the bed, wiggling until both of them were covered by a thick layer of silk.

Louis raised his head, pulling away from her until they lay side by side, barely touching. He slid his hand down her front under the sheets, pushing apart her legs and sliding two fingers into her slick hole. With his thumb, he massaged her clit.

“That was the best meal I’ve ever had,” he declared. “Still hungry though, but we can rest a while. Open your mouth?”

Tess did as he asked, feeling him take his fingers from her, sticky with a mixture of his come and her juices. He pushed his fingers into her mouth and she sucked on them, tasting both of them. When she’d sucked his fingers clean, he pushed them back into her for another load.

“I don’t understand why you’re here,” Louis frowned, watching the way her lips moulded to his fingers. “He should have killed you.”

“He said he wants me to rule by his side.” Tess rolled her eyes as he slid his hand back under the covers. “I don’t know. He had me chained beside his throne while he had appointments with his court.”

“He acts more like a king than a president,” Louis agreed. “Never seen a human like him.”

Tess froze. “What?”

“Well he’s human. At first I thought he could have been one of us – no one rises to power that fast without some kind of ability. But Tess, come on, you’ve spent time with the man. There’s nothing remotely supernatural about him.” Louis grinned. “Except maybe his hair.”

Tess began to protest, but Louis’ fingers were back in her mouth. He waited until they were clean, before laughing and diving under the sheets. She saw his covered form rise between her legs, his hands holding her thighs apart again, before his warm, wet mouth was pressing against her pussy, lapping and nibbling at her folds. Tess gasped, reaching down to push him closer to her, but he pulled away with a chuckle.

“Hold your hands above your head,” he ordered, and waited until she’d done so to continue.

He stayed down until she came, pushing her crotch harder against his mouth. She curled up as he emerged from under the covers, slowly moving her arms to rest on her stomach. Louis pulled her close to him, curling around her, and gently began to kiss her back. His lips were unusually soft on her skin.

Tess reached back to rest her hand on his hip. “Can we be drugged?”

“No. Our blood doesn’t flow.” Louis paused, his lips on the back of his neck, and then leaned on one elbow. “Why?”

Tess rolled over to face him. “He drugged me. To get me here.”

“He can’t have.”

“He drugged me and tied me up in the back of a van. I couldn’t move, Louis. I was drugged.”

Louis frowned. “But it wouldn’t work.”

Tess shrugged and curled against his chest, feeling his arm mould against her back as he held her close. “Something happened to me.”

“Maybe you’re not a night-walker.” He looked at the blinds, which were slowly darkening. The night was approaching. “When did you wake up?”

“I don’t sleep.”

“That also wouldn’t work.” He smiled at her, bemused. “Definitely not a night-walker. Seriously though, when was the last time you slept?”

“When was the last time you slept?” she countered, closing her eyes.

Louis dropped back down to lie beside her. “Two years ago.”

Tess opened one eye. “What?”

“I haven’t slept since you di- um, changed. None of us have; no one would let us. Tom kept us up with silver, and I don’t know how Everett does it, but I can’t rest. I can’t die.”

“Well.” Tess hooked one leg over him, straddling his waist with her hand on his chest. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

He raised an eyebrow cockily. “Really? Tell me what you want.”

She leaned down until her lips were beside his ear. “I want you to tie me down and take me like you used to. When I was yours.”

Louis caught her waist and flipped them over, pinning her down to the mattress. “Do not move,” he ordered.

Tess stayed where he’d placed her as he left to rummage through the trunk. Items were tossed onto the bed and though she was curious, she resisted the urge to turn her head and look. Even if she could do it quickly, he’d notice if even a single strand of her hair was out of place. Louis returned, holding a red leather band.

“Sit up.”

She obeyed, feeling the soft fluff of the inside layer of the collar press against her neck. Louis fastened it tightly, enough to cut off her breathing, but she didn’t mind anymore. It would have been different if she’d still been human; she’d have wondered if he was trying to kill her. Now, she just knew he was pushing the limits of how rough he could be with her.

Louis folded her wrists behind her back, securing them there with a pair of steel handcuffs. Tess tested them, surprised to find if she strained too much they’d break. She was a lot stronger than the restraints, but thinking about it more, Louis probably knew that. It was more of a test of self-control.

She was moved until she was on her knees, her cheek pressed to the sheets, with Louis’ hands running over her ass gently. His touch disappeared for a moment, and then it was back, a burning handprint across her cheek, making her jump. He chuckled.

“Such a good little slut for me,” he murmured, sliding one slick finger into her ass. “Want me in here? Want me to come in here and plug you up? You can go and sit with Everett tomorrow, knowing my come is inside you. He’d never know.”

He pressed another finger into her, stretching open her hole. Tess felt the burn and moaned, shuffling closer to him and getting another smack in return. He got the hint though, and removed his fingers. When he pressed into her, thick and wet, she grit her teeth and clenched.

“So tight after all this time.” Louis took hold of her hips. “Do you like the thought of being mine and Everett’s whore? I’m not keen on sharing, but it’ll make it so much better if he doesn’t even know.”

He gripped the back of her collar and used it to pull her upright, using the momentum to begin roughly fucking her. Tess cried out as his hand closed around her throat over the collar and pulled her back until she rested against his chest. She felt him fill her completely, his lips pressed to the back of her neck.

“Slut,” he snarled, and threw her back down on the mattress.

Tess felt her head spin. All she felt was the burn and the occasional sting of his hand on her flesh, both of which drove her wild. There was nothing like this, she decided, nothing like the raw, animalistic sensation coursing through her veins. Part of it came from Louis’ ability, she was sure, but the other part came from the knowledge that there was no necessity to procreate. This was unambiguous fun, and all the more if it pissed off the more devout humans.

Louis squeezed her hips. She felt him come inside her again, but when he slowed to a stop he didn’t immediately pull out. He leaned over to the side, tugging her with him when he couldn’t quite reach. The chest dragged along the floor with a dull screech. His fingers drew out a small, bright purple plug – she saw it from the corner of her eye – and leaned over her body to press the tip to her lips.

“Get it nice and wet,” he murmured, watching as she closed her mouth around it. “That’s it.” He withdrew it with a soft _pop_ and slowly slid out of her ass. Tess had a moment’s relief, before the plug replaced him, though it was much smaller.

Louis pressed the heel of his palm to her spine and pushed all the way up to her neck. Tess arched her back, her mouth falling open; she’d been wrong about the sex. This massage, if it could be classed as that, was the best thing she’d experienced. Her back stretched out, Louis helped her up. They knelt across from each other on the bed, watching each other’s movements.

“You are stunning,” Louis said finally, reaching for her hand. “You are the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

“ _Thing_ ,” Tess scoffed.

“If that’s the only thing you picked up from that sentence, you weren’t listening.” He smiled, but it faded as his gaze dropped to her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “How did you survive? I’ve been trying to think of ways you could’ve escaped, but I’m coming up with nothing. I saw Tom’s servants dump your body in the garden. I saw you when the sun came up. I’m sorry, Tess, but you should have disintegrated.”

Tess shrugged. “I don’t know how, or why, but I survived. Can we just stop? I don’t like talking about it.”

“Why not? What’s so wrong about it?”

“Everything. There are probably recording devices all over this room, I don’t want Everett hearing my grand escape plan.” She rolled her eyes. “Like there was one.”

Louis stared at her. “You know.”

“I don’t.”

“You _do_. You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not.”

“But you are.” His expression crumpled. “I get it. It’s been two years, I could be a spy for Everett, you want to escape the same way. But you could trust me a little more.”

“Louis, I’ve no idea what happened. But I wasn’t kidding about the spying thing.”

He nodded. “It’s fine. I’m just really tired – I really need to die soon. I don’t know how long I can go on like this.”

“With suspicious minds?” Tess bit her lip. “Sorry. Everett was playing it before his audience thing and it’s stuck in my head.”

Louis laughed. “I meant dying, but that works too.” He flopped down onto the bed and curled up loosely, patting the hollow his body had created. “Think I’m sick of sex for the night.”

“That’s a first.”

“Tell me about it. Come and cuddle with me.”


	5. Chapter 5

Louis’ fingers splayed across her stomach, his body curled against hers. Tess could feel his lips pressed to her shoulder, his breath soft and warm on her skin. They’d lain together for over twelve hours now, with the occasional break for sex. Tess knew it wasn’t going to last. Olivia would be here any moment to collect her for whatever Everett had planned for today. The girl was hovering outside the door, the floor creaking beneath her feet.

Tess rolled her shoulders and got up. She opened the wardrobe and leafed through the heavy dresses. Behind her, the sheets rustled as Louis stretched out. He was watching her when she glanced back. She turned back to the dresses.

“I like the pink one,” he said, hugging her pillow to his chest and inhaling.

Tess frowned. “Doesn’t it look girly?”

“Subjective. Aren’t you supposed to be playing the harmless monster role anyway? Put it on; it’s pretty.”

He had a point. Tess drew the dress from the wardrobe, holding it up to herself and turning to face him. It was pale pink, the skirt thick and sparkling, with a corset back. Louis nodded, sitting up against the headboard, chin resting on her pillow. Tess grabbed underwear from the drawer in the cabinet and dressed, pulling the fabric together at the back.

“Can you fasten this for me?”

Louis was behind her immediately, soft hands taking the lace from her fingertips and weaving the corset back shut. He tied it tightly, with a flourish that suggested he was binding her to the bed again. Tess turned around, resting her hands on his waist, and kissed him.

There was a knock at the door and with a breeze, Louis was back in the bed again, naked body covered by the sheets. He raised his eyebrows at her and Tess shook her head, a fond smile threatening to reveal itself. Instead, she turned away, striding across to the double doors. Olivia trembled on the other side, flinching when the doors swung open.

“You need to – oh. You’re dressed.” She hovered, uncertain of her duties now. Tess stepped aside to let her in. “How did you fasten that?”

Louis waved from the bed. “Hello.”

Olivia’s jaw twitched, as though she’d stopped from staring open-mouthed at it. She blinked at Tess. “Isn’t he supposed to be on a leash?”

The disdain in her voice was surprising. Tess had expected Olivia to be scared, as terrified of Louis as she was of Tess, not snobbish towards him. It rendered Tess speechless for a moment, during which Louis’ expression darkened and Olivia’s lips curled into a snarl.

“No. He’s mine, to do with as I wish.” Tess stepped into her shoes, glancing between them as she backed away from the doors.

“You weren’t saying that last night,” Louis muttered. When she glared at him, he winked; Olivia turned her nose up at him and stepped out into the hallway.

“Shut up and stay here,” Tess snapped, pausing in the doorway.

Louis saluted her mockingly. “Yes, Mistress.”

Tess closed the door on him.

Olivia was waiting at the top of the stairs. As soon as Tess drew closer, she began the descent, staying a few feet ahead on purpose. Tess could have easily caught up, but she had a feeling Olivia didn’t want to talk right now.

Tess was led past Everett’s throne room, where she’d expected to stop, and on towards his chambers. Instead of the dining room, the only room she’d seen of his so far, Olivia took her through the back, stopping outside an open door. Tess hesitated, but stepped inside, flinching when the door slammed shut behind her.

The room was dark, but that was nothing to her. There were no windows, she noticed, and barely any furniture. Just a wardrobe pushed against the left wall, a filled bookcase, a small desk covered in an excess of writing materials, and a bed. Everett sat at the desk, turning a pen over in his hand. Behind him, bright light spilled around the edges of a smaller door, glimmering around his silhouette.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling at her. He twisted in his seat to face her. “You do clean up well, Tess.”

“I think you’ve already told me that,” she replied.

The display of humanity disgusted her. The bed was only used for the same thing as hers, and the bathroom (which she presumed was behind the second door) was practically useless. Yet Everett appeared to be weaker through here; the lack of windows despite his immunity to sunlight suggested he was punishing himself for existing as the abomination he believed himself to be. Tess squashed the feeling welling up inside her – he had trapped her here. She would not feel sorry for him.

“I take it you don’t like my room?”

He had a weird look on his face, an almost… sinister look. Tess shook herself. He was getting to her. The whole act of getting her in here alone was suspicious, but if he wanted to talk about night-walkers freely, she supposed it made sense.

He was still waiting for an answer. Tess shook her head.

“Think I prefer mine. What do you tell people about the windows?”

“Nobody comes in here but the maids – I tell them I have migraines. Works like a charm.” He laughed. “Humans believe anything. They’ll do whatever you tell them to, if you say it sweetly enough. So will night-walkers, it turns out.” His smile grew. An overwhelming feeling of dread settled in Tess’s stomach. “What’s your ability, Tess?”

“The same as yours. We’re both immune to sunlight.”

“No, Tess. That was a fluke of birth – it came from the way we were created. I’m talking about your inherent ability, the unique one. Harry has telepathy, Niall can heal. What can you do?”

“I- I don’t know. I always thought it was the sunlight thing.”

“We can all be wrong sometimes. Did you enjoy your night with Louis? It certainly sounded like it.”

He jumped so quickly through conversational topics. Tess couldn’t find a space to reply even if she understood what he was saying. Ordering people around, supernatural gifts, and now last night? She couldn’t see how they were connected. Her head had begun to spin, though rationally she knew neither she nor the walls were moving. A warm fuzziness spread through her limbs, rendering them almost useless.

Everett was still talking. “You were very loud, the pair of you. Are you sure he didn’t hurt you? You’re looking a little peaky. Why don’t you sit down on the bed a moment?”

That was a good idea. Tess took his suggestion, though she felt as though it wasn’t entirely her decision. Her limbs seemed to move by themselves, guided by Everett. But that was ridiculous.

“What was I saying? Oh yes – Louis. I’m sure he told you of his predicament. He can’t die, you see, not even if he wanted to, and he’s been working on theories as to why ever since he came here. There’s no silver on him to keep him alive, and nothing else can cause this as far as he knows. But the answer’s simple, when you think about it – I just told him not to.”

Everett was in front of her now – when did he get there? – guiding her backwards until she was lying on the bed. The layers of her skirt were lifted, and Everett’s hands were on her bare thighs. She hadn’t worn underwear, under Louis’ guidance, and still wore the plug from the night before. Everett brushed the edge with his thumb.

“You filthy little slut,” he said, chuckling. “I never imagined you would agree to this. Lift your legs.”

Tess whimpered. As far as she could remember, she _hadn’t_ agreed to this. She didn’t want this, yet her body was obeying his orders and her protests were becoming foggier and foggier in her own mind. Why didn’t she want this? The rational part of her was slowly sinking away. The plug was pulled out of her and tossed aside. Everett’s fingers soothed over her opening, wet with lube.

“Just enjoy this,” he breathed, sliding into her.

Tess gasped and bit her lip. He was rough, taking no time to let her adjust or prepare herself. She felt sick. How did she let this happen? The past five minutes were already slipping away from her, dragging Everett’s words – which had to be important, she could feel it – with them. She opened her mouth to cry out; maybe Louis would hear her, maybe he would come running. Everett slapped her, hard across the face.

“Don’t make any noise,” he said, in the same cool, collected tone. She had a moment of stunned silence to reflect that although he was panting now, his voice had been steady, before the thought slipped away.

Tess went to cry out again, or maybe just to sob in pain, but she couldn’t find her voice. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out everything. Tears still rolled down her cheeks, soaking into her lips as she turned her face away.

Everett finished quietly, pulling out and pushing the plug back in simultaneously. Tess froze, hearing him amble around the room and come back to the bed. A wet wipe brushed her legs and she flinched.

He laughed. “I’m just cleaning you up. Can’t have you going out there smelling like sex, and I don’t trust you enough to dispose of the evidence well enough – no offence.”

His hand closed around her throat and pulled her into a standing position. She tottered precariously, catching herself on his chest, hoping he’d loosen his grip. He waited until she’d righted herself, and then squeezed her throat.

“We had fun, didn’t we?” he murmured. Tess shook her head and clutched his wrist, trying to pull him off. “Don’t fight me. We had fun. Say it.”

Her hands dropped to her sides and her lips moved before she knew what was happening. “We had fun,” she mumbled.

“You’re not going to tell anyone about this. You’re going to forget about it until tomorrow morning, when you’re going to come back here and we’re going to do it again. Got it?”

Tess nodded slowly. Everett took his hand away from her throat, holding her waist instead. When he spoke again, his voice had lost that authoritative tone.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You swooned for a minute there.”

Tess blinked up at him. She could have sworn she’d been standing on the other side of the room just a few seconds ago, and how did he get so close to her? Her head pounded, filled with slowly receding static noise. She raised her hand to brush her hair away from her face.

“I think so. My head hurts,” she replied.

“Maybe you’re hungry. Come on, I’m sure Louis will be delighted to see you again so early. You should probably eat each morning from now on – I’ll switch out your food source every two days, keep it fresh, you know?”

Everett stepped aside, gesturing to the door. Tess took a step and stumbled, her legs weak. There was a sharp pain in her lower abdomen – she’d obviously gone too hard with Louis last night. Silently, Everett picked her up, carrying her against his chest. She wiggled out of his grasp.

“I can walk, I’m fine,” she insisted. “You don’t have to carry me.”

“Alright, I’ll escort you instead.”

Everett offered his arm. Tess hesitated, and then slipped her arm through his. Maybe his perfect gentleman act was more truthful than she’d originally thought. Neither of them paid attention to the confused and almost insulted looks they received as they made their way out of Everett’s chambers and up to Tess’s room. On the way, Everett chatted about their plans for the rest of the day – today was the beginning of a new era, according to him.

“Our chance to rule together,” he told her, lowering his voice as they passed two footmen. “We have to present ourselves as a united front. I’ll tell everyone you’ve agreed to join us – we can go down to just cuffs and you can have your own seat.”

“Still silver?” Tess asked, glancing down at her wrists, red from the day before.

“No. I have titanium ones we can use, but you’ll have to promise to at least act like they’re hurting you.”

She nodded. “Think I can manage that.”

They stopped outside her room. Everett released her arm.

“I’ll stay out here. He hates me,” he said, opening the door for her.

Tess swept back into her room, hearing the door shut firmly behind her. Louis was sitting on the bed, a book open in his hands, and glanced over his shoulder at her.

“You’re back early,” he said, frowning.

“I fainted,” she replied. “Too hungry.”

He rolled his eyes and shut the book, placing it on the bed. “You ate the other day. Was it yesterday?”

Tess shrugged and crawled across the bed towards him. “All I know is I fainted or whatever when I got to Everett’s room. He said it was hunger.”

“Ah yes, the god says it’s hunger so he must be right. I don’t see why you’re still hanging out with him.”

“I don’t have much of a choice if I want to get you out, do I?”

“That’s what you’re doing?”

“Did I not tell you?”

“No. You’re an idiot and it’s never going to work. We’re all going to die in here.”

“Can you shut up and let me eat?”

Louis turned away. “Maybe I don’t want you to. It’s my body.”

“Are you serious?” He didn’t reply, and Tess grasped his shoulder. “Where was this attitude when you first captured me?”

“That was different. You were human.”

“That’s not any different and you know it.”

Louis sighed and turned around to face her. He tilted his head to the side, exposing his throat and the glittering bite mark from the day before. Tess rubbed her thumb over it, feeling the ghostly chill that came with night-walker bites, and leant down to bite him again.

“You slurp when you drink,” Louis muttered.

Tess had her fill, a lot less than the last time, and slid her arms around his neck. He sighed dramatically, but held her close to him. She kissed his cheek.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He smiled at her. “Don’t let that dick make you do anything you don’t want to do. He’s very persuasive.”

“He wouldn’t dare.” Tess stood up, straightening her dress and running her hands through her hair. “Do I look okay?”

Louis smiled at her, faintly amused. “Perfect,” he said, reaching for his book again.

Tess left, closing the door behind her. Everett was leaning against the bannister, arms folded over his chest. He smiled when he saw her.

“You’ve got blood, um-” He wiped at the corner of his mouth.

Damn Louis. Tess wiped where he was pointing, but from his laughter she guessed she was way off. Everett wiped at the mark. His hand cupped her face, his thumb pressed softly to her lips. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her

A maid came up the stairs and he jumped away from her. The maid walked past without giving either of them a second glance. Everett sucked at his thumb absently, glancing back at her as he started off down the corridor to his throne room – or conference room, as he’d referred to it earlier.

Tess paused before she caught up to him, casting a guilty look at her bedroom door. For a moment, she’d looked forward to kissing him.


End file.
